Moraband, known in antiquity as Korriban, is a harsh, desolate planet that is indelibly linked to its history as the ancient homeworld of the Sith. Its barren landscape, which is covered by red sands and a crimson sky, sporting towering rock formations born from the remnants of temples and tombs. The planet itself is saturated with the Dark Side of the Force, the result of nefarious rituals once performed by Sith forefathers.

One area of particular interest on the planet is the Valley of the Dark Lords, a narrow area between two cliff walls into which ancient tombs have been carved for fallen Sith Lords. The sealed tombs once concealed mysteries and dark powers connected to legends like Exar Kun and Naga Sadow, though decades of scavenging from looters and wannabe acolytes alike have left varying amounts of debris across the sand, leaving it questionable as to what remains.

What is certain is the presence of a dark energy that seeps from these tombs that renders the air around their rocky surroundings still, suffocating, maddening – as if too much humidity somehow exists in the desert environs. The tales of Sith Spirits returning from the dead to prey on the meek and feeble don't seem like an exaggeration in this ancient landscape. One can only hope and pray that these stories aren't based on reality.

With a screech the fiery orange lightsaber batted away an azure blaster bolt, sending it flying into the crimson skies.

PEW! PEW! PEW!

A triad of ruby bolts came flying at Vincent Brujah. Sweat dripped from his forehead to the rocky ground below as he spun to the right, dodging the first bolt. He swung his sabers downward, crossing in front of his body, catching the second and third bolts and sending them into the ground before him.

The Sith took a deep breath in through his nose, his eyes rolling back into his head. The connection with the Dark Side here on Korriban was something like he had never felt before. His every movement quicker. Every swing of his lightsabers more powerful than the last. Even now he could sense the ship coming into orbit, carrying the Bringer of Darkness. With a wave of his hand the blasters stop firing.

“Well done, Frank.” the Quaestor spoke towards a droid in the distance. “That will be enough for now.”

His glossy black armor glistened in the sunlight. He approached the IG droid, patting it on the shoulder.

“Remember. Everything you see here today is just training. I want you to stay uninvolved… unless she makes the mistake of involving her droid. If that is the case, put it down, quickly.”

“Understood.” replied the droid.

In the distance a VT-49 Decimator landed, aptly named Caliburnus. Vincent watched as the Sith Eternal Rasilvenaira StormRaven stepped down the ramp of the ship and made her way towards the House Caliburnus Quaestor. Vincent stepped away from his droid and toward the Sith to meet her half way.

“Ras, it has been too long.”

“Vincent… why have you called me here?” she returned from under the hood of her black cloak.

Vincent smirked.

“Call it a matter of curiosity… call it a matter of pride… call it whatever you like. You’ve recently begun to make your presence known again in my house. Yet, at every glance, it feels like I sense you side eyeing me. You come here today on a ship named after the House that I returned to greatness… not once, but twice. I feel in you a doubt in my abilities.”

The Quaestor picked his helmet up from the ground, attaching it to his armor at his chin and then pulling it over his head until it hissed out and sealed him away from the environment. He spoke again, in a deeper, modulated voice.

“So I have brought you here so that you can test your might against mine. You doubt me? Then strike me down and take the helm.”

Before the Sith Eternal could respond, Brujah had ignited his sabers again. The orange and red blades screamed to life as he dove in at Rasilvenaira, impossibly quickly, with the same downward crossed swing that he had used to bat the blaster bolts into the ground earlier. In an instant she had called Asimi into her hand and ignited it, catching Brujah’s sabers at the x of his cross. The sabers spat sparks at each other for a moment before she shoved him away with an invisible hand.

Rasilvenaira stepped sideways after forcing the man back a bit. She twisted out of saber’s reach before igniting her second saber, Katya, the silver-white blade hummed with eager anticipation. Circling a step left, the Sith Warlord flashed a malevolent grin at the man before her.

“Brujah, I am honored to spar with you. But a moment please, lest my companion take things the wrong way, hm?”

Her voice was as smooth as imperial silk, but dripped with sarcasm. She turned her head just enough to call out to the lethal rust-hued assassin droid that had accompanied her.

“Veritas, stay with the ship, please. I don’t need any unwanted guests sneaking on board. Never can tell with a place like this what might lurk in the shadows.”

Veritas shifted his orange gaze from one human to the other, then let out a clearly disappointed, mechanical sigh.

“Yes, master.”

With that settled, Rasilvenaira turned her full attention back to the Quaestor. The Bringer of Darkness had well earned her title, in the space between heartbeats the two combatants were enveloped in a shroud of inky blackness. Sounds could still be heard, but Rasilvenaira used that to toy with her old friend. Lifting a small rock, she tossed it to his left while moving to his right with the sounds of her sabers disappearing the same instant as she deactivated them. She waited. This was her favorite moment of cat and mouse.

Rasilvenaira doubted that Brujah would panic, he was too old and experienced for that. But most Sith share some degree of paranoia. Even herself, though she never admitted such a thing. Snap a twig there. Toss a rock here. Drag the toe of her boot in the sand there. In a rapid but carefully measured rhythm around the man. They were considered to be equals in many respects, but no one was ever completely equal were they? He was larger, stronger, younger. Rasilvenaira knew the dangers of letting him get too close for too long, better to make him question his senses and to bide her time. Slowly, dark tendrils wound their way toward Brujah’s mind, seeking to weaken his resolve as fears played havoc.

Sneering under his helmet, the Quaestor was enveloped in blackness. Even the light of his sabers disappeared into the abyss. Almost instinctively Brujah switched his stance to a defensive position, protecting his upper half with Hellfire while lowering Brimstone to guard his legs. His attention snapped to the left as he heard the movement of stone on stone, but his senses told him another story.

She’s toying with me the Sith thought.

He feigned to his left, toward the sound of the stone. He heard a scuttle behind him, and the twang of something metal striking rock even further to his left. Playing the fool, Vincent turned his back to where he sensed the life force of Rasilvenaira. He could feel her amusement, which only served to fuel the fires of his temper.

Warning sirens screamed out in the mind of the Quaestor as StormRaven dove in. With a jump, Rasilvenaira flipped forward, waiting until the last moment to ignite a silver blade and use the momentum of her flip to bring it crashing down toward Brujah’s neck. The Quaestor spun, blocking the strike with Hellfire, while swinging Brimstone up to reinforce the block. The sabers hissed as they made contact, but Vincent quickly found himself stumbling forward as Rasilvenaira deactivated her saber upon landing on the ground.

Spinning out of Vincent’s range, she ignited the saber once more and swung in on him as he regained his balance. The Sith could feel the strike incoming, but couldn’t avoid it. Instead he tilted his head forward and raised his armored right arm to intercept where he thought the blade would land. The saber screamed as it crashed into Brujah’s upper arm, but the armor held. Undeterred, the Sith Eternal pressed harder on the armor, causing it to smoke and bubble.

Letting out a scream of anger, Vincent spun left and away from Rasilvenaira, swatting her saber away at the apex of his spin. As they both fought to regain their stances, the darkness surrounding Brujah began to fade, slowly at first. Through cracks in the blackness the Sith tried to regain his bearing. The first distinct image that came to him was the silver blade of his opponent and a large darkened area in the sky behind her that he recognized as one of the statues of Sith Lords past.

Closing his eyes, Vincent grabbed the statue by the shoulders and jerked it towards the ground and Rasilvenaira.

Rasilvenaira rolled and scrambled to the right to avoid the falling statue. However, she lost her grip on one of her sabers in the process. Several fist sized chunks of stone pelted across her back and shoulders, and a larger one caught her left hip. She regained her feet and recalled her saber to her hand, silver blade snapping back to life with an angry hiss.

Her jet dark eyes locked on the man as she studied Brujah. While she initially hadn’t intended to really kill him, she was starting to question the Quaestor’s intentions and how far he might go to test her. As she always said, “never trust a sith.” Fine, if he wanted to play rough, she would make him work for it. She wouldn’t deny that she had her eyes on his seat, but she was patient enough to wait, usually. However, if an opportunity arose, she was hardly above pressing any opening.

She gathered herself and delved deep into the dark energy abundant in this ancient place. Rasilvenaira hurled the broken head of the statue at Brujah. In the same instant as she let the statue head fly, she drove deeper with the dark tendrils of fear, attacking the Quaestor’s mind. She hoped to unbalance him both mentally and physically. He had the advantage of size and strength over her in a head to head battle. So she preferred to fight from a safe distance, to chip away at his endurance and resolve, rather than closing in to fight face to face.

The Sith conjured nightmarish images to taunt Brujah’s mind, to distract him as she vanished from sight, even through the Force she’d become invisible. Concealed from her adversary, she stalked around him, carefully moving without a sound. She kept up the mental assault, and then hurled another large chunk of stone at him from the left, and then another from the right. She wanted to confuse and disorient him which would weaken his position.

Rasilvenaira extinguished her sabers and returned them to her belt. Instead she drew her beloved double bladed dagger, the Arashi-Kumori. In her other hand, she drew one of her Nightsister daggers. She renewed her mental terror attack and crept closer, keeping herself concealed until she was in the right position. Then she lunged at Brujah, slashing to find a weak spot in his armor, just under the right arm. As she twisted lithely to avoid his reflexive saber strike, she slashed at his wrist with her dagger and quickly dodged back out of range.

She had managed to draw blood, though she knew it wouldn’t be enough yet to slow her opponent down. He was too strong for that, she’d have to wear him down further, get him to make a mistake and leave her a better opening. Like a hunting cat, she was patient enough to stalk and study her prey. She would attack, retreat, and harry him from a distance. The debris of the fallen statue offered ample ammunition as she kept throwing pieces at him from all directions.

The Quaestor’s anger was palpable, but yet he still seemed somehow composed. He deactivated and sheathed Brimstone, dabbing his hand against the wound while keeping his natural Makashi guard with Hellfire. He’d been hurt worse, but this jab was going to bleed a lot. It was time to bring this to the conclusion.

The Sith Eternal circled him from a distance, watching like a bird of prey for her next opening. Vincent wasn’t one to leave her waiting. With a dash, the Sith used his augmented speed and agility to run up the front side of a nearby statue. Rasilvenaira watched on inquisitively as the Sith made his strategy clear. As he neared the head of the statue, Brujah broke the statue into two at the mid torso. Calling on the ungodly power that Korriban was providing, he leveled the broken half that he was standing on and sent it flying towards StormRaven, riding it like a surfboard as it rained down towards her.

Her eyes widened. This really wasn’t a game. He was going to kill her, here and now. His paranoia had taken full hold on him. Lifting hundreds of rocks of varying sizes from the ground, she hurled them at the incoming Warlord.

His eyes glowing red under his helmet, Vincent Brujah threw a barrier up in front of him and pulled his crackling crimson saber back as he prepared to strike. The rocks pinged of the barrier like hail smashing against a durasteel wall. As the statue crashed into the ground creating a crater and an explosion of stone and red dirt, Rasilvenaira flipped backward and away from the impact. Vincent launched himself from the statue, riding the shockwave with his saber drawn back ready to launch a powerful Djem So strike. She needed room, and he couldn’t afford to give it to her.

She dropped Arashi-Kumori calling a saber back to her hand instead and brought the silver blade up to block. Vincent crashed down on her with a heavy left to right swing from the saber in his right hand. The two blades collided with a hiss. Vincent pulled back against the blocked and brought the saber up over his head before slamming it back down towards StormRaven. Again she moved to block, and again the blades screamed as they made contact, pushing closer and closer to her head.

His strikes were powerful. She had to stop this now. Vincent pulled back for another overhead strike, and she saw her opening. Spinning away from the armored maniac, she called her second saber to her hand. As Vincent swung down she timed a slice perfectly and sent the emitter of Hellfire flying across the stones as the rest of the hilt remained in his hands sparking and crackling.

Vincent tried to pull Brimstone to his hand, but he was too late. In an instant his head was surrounded by the business ends of glowing silver lightsabers. He laughed; softly at first until it was a full on roar. Rasilvenaira looked on at him, puzzled, but not falling for any tricks she left her sabers centimeters from his neck. Vincent reached up, putting his hands up in a surrender for a moment, before releasing the seals on his helmet and pulling it off.

“Well done. I came here for a fight, and you have given me one that I will remember for a long time.”

He smiled at her.

“The time is coming when I will no longer be able to lead House Caliburnus. There are many names that may take the reins, but yours stuck out. I couldn’t walk away without knowing that if you are the next to take the helm, that MY House would be left in good hands.”

“And?” she returned.

“I no longer have any doubts…”

She deactivated her sabers, bring a small sigh from Brujah.

“Frank!”

“Yes, Master Brujah!” the IG droid called out from afar.

“Get the rum ready!”

“Right away.”

The two put away their weapons and walked towards the IG droid and Brujah’s ship.

Rasilvenaira rolled and scrambled to the right to avoid the falling statue. However, she lost her grip on one of her sabers in the process. Several fist sized chunks of stone pelted across her back and shoulders, and a larger one caught her left hip. She regained her feet and recalled her saber to her hand, silver blade snapping back to life with an angry hiss. Her jet dark eyes locked on the man as she studied Brujah. While she initially hadn’t intended to really kill him, she was starting to question the Quaestor’s intentions and how far he might go to test her. As she always said, “never trust a sith.” Fine, if he wanted to play rough, she would make him work for it. She wouldn’t deny that she had her eyes on his seat, but she was patient enough to wait, usually. However, if an opportunity arose, she was hardly above pressing any opening.

She gathered herself and delved deep into the dark energy abundant in this ancient place. Rasilvenaira hurled the broken head of the statue at Brujah. In the same instant as she let the statue head fly, she drove deeper with the dark tendrils of fear, attacking the Quaestor’s mind. She hoped to unbalance him both mentally and physically. He had the advantage of size and strength over her in a head to head battle. So she preferred to fight from a safe distance, to chip away at his endurance and resolve, rather than closing in to fight face to face.

The Sith conjured nightmarish images to taunt Brujah’s mind, to distract him as she vanished from sight, even through the Force she’d become invisible. Concealed from her adversary, she stalked around him, carefully moving without a sound. She kept up the mental assault, and then hurled another large chunk of stone at him from the left, and then another from the right. She wanted to confuse and disorient him which would weaken his position.

Rasilvenaira extinguished her sabers and returned them to her belt. Instead she drew her beloved double bladed dagger, the Arashi-Kumori. In her other hand, she drew one of her Nightsister daggers. She renewed her mental terror attack and crept closer, keeping herself concealed until she was in the right position. Then she lunged at Brujah, slashing to find a weak spot in his armor, just under the right arm. As she twisted lithely to avoid his reflexive saber strike, she slashed at his wrist with her dagger and quickly dodged back out of range.

She had managed to draw blood, though she knew it wouldn’t be enough yet to slow her opponent down. He was too strong for that, she’d have to wear him down further, get him to make a mistake and leave her a better opening. Like a hunting cat, she was patient enough to stalk and study her prey. She would attack, retreat, and harry him from a distance. The debris of the fallen statue offered ample ammunition as she kept throwing pieces at him from all directions.

Final post:

Brujah erected a barrier to fend off the assault, sparks started to crackle at his fingertips as his temper seethed. Tapping into that deep rage, he turned to face Rasilvenaira.

“Enough cat and mouse games, Rasilvenaira.”

He hurled a vicious blast of Force lightning at her. Rasilvenaira tried to dodge, but wasn’t quite fast enough. Pain seared through her body and she dropped to her knees. Rasilvenaira coughed and struggled back to her feet only to get hit by another vicious blast. She was knocked backward into the cracked body of the statue behind her.

Rasilvenaira gathered herself, shaking off the pain as much as she could. She made a quick dash behind the base of the statue, breaking Bruhaj’s line of sight. It gave her a crucial moment to catch her breath and to make a plan. She weighed her options and she concealed herself in the Force as they were both surrounded in ink-black darkness.

“I’m tired of your tricks, Ras. You think I’m not worthy to be your Quaestor, then come face me. Stop hiding in shadows.”

She crept in close, circling around him, then she ignited her sabers. The blackness vanished just as she lunged at him, sabers aimed for his back. Brujah spun, bringing his sabers to bear against Rasilvenaira’s. They exchanged blows, sabers hissing and crackling with each clash. Their movements fell into a steady rhythm, a deadly dance, as each vied for an opening.

Finally their sabers met in a cross lock. Brujah pressed forward, seeking to use his size and weight to his advantage. Suddenly, Rasilvenaira deactivated her sabers in a gutsy move. She dove down and rolled to the side as Brujah’s momentum carried him forward. He stumbled a step when the resistance he’d been fighting suddenly vanished. As she went past him, Rasilvenaira reactivated one saber to slash at the weak point at the back of his left knee. Then quickly got back to her feet. She struck out with a telekinetic strike at the unbalanced Quaestor. He was shoved forward and fell hard.

The armor protected Brujah’s knee but just barely. He limped a little as he regained his feet and turned to face Rasilvenaira again. He growled in anger as he stepped closer.

“More tricks? Are you that afraid of facing me fairly?”

Rasilvenaira chuckled softly, “Brujah, wasn’t it you who once told me that Sith never play fair?”

He walked toward her, studying her closely. His sabers blazed and finally he lunged forward, striking toward her midsection. Rasilvenaira’s ghostly silver blades met the strike with a shower of sparks and a loud crackling hiss. They twisted and turned, each looking for another opening as they exchanged blows. Parrying and dodging, their sabers were a blur of color and light.

The extended close combat was beginning to wear on Rasilvenaira. Brujah was larger and stronger and there was no way she’d be able to prevail if they kept up like this. Besides, in her mind, he’d proven his point. When their sabers finally caught each other in a block, she shook her head.

“Enough of this, I yield, Brujah! I accept your place as Quaestor.” For now, she thought to herself.

She pulled back and extinguished her sabers, clipping them back to her belt. He huffed, but also deactivated his sabers.

“Fine, just be sure you remember your place. I don’t trust you, Ras.”

She smiled sweetly, “I’m hurt, Brujah. But that’s okay. You won this time.”